


Love and wanting

by AdriMmoralesDUH



Series: Fifty reasons for Sherlolly smut [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Break Up, Drugs, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Sad Ending, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:27:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28073943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdriMmoralesDUH/pseuds/AdriMmoralesDUH
Summary: Most of us know how to wanting, but few of us know how to love and it is that loving and wanting are not the same, loving is suffering and wanting is enjoying.Molly and Sherlock, woman and man, love may end soon, will this be the case?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Series: Fifty reasons for Sherlolly smut [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055156
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12
Collections: Fifty Reasons to Have (Sherlolly) Sex





	Love and wanting

**Author's Note:**

> This work is inspired by "50 Reasons to Have Sex" and is written for the "Fifty Reasons to Have Sex (Sherlolly)" collection.
> 
> 3\. Break'up sex.

Silent, raw and insensitive. Silence between a man and a woman, suffocating them both. Sherlock sighed shakily and grabbed the hand Molly had placed on his cheek.

"No. Please Molly. Don't do it, ”Sherlock said, his eyes filling with tears.

"I thought I could change you," Molly replied in a shaky voice.

"Please, Molly, no"

Molly puts her hand down ...

"I'm leaving, Sherlock" says Molly with tears running down her flushed cheeks and leaving the apartment leaving a Sherlock Holmes completely overwhelmed.

_**Days before……………………………………………………………………** _

Sherlock Holmes was never afraid, or so he thought. All logic slipped from his mind when he saw Molly currently sitting on the edge of the couch in room 221B. The little woman's head was inside a garbage can, with a trail of saliva hanging down her thin pink lip, she looked very bad, tired and sick. Her eyes were red and glassy from a fever that until now had not been broken, when she looked up, Sherlock realized that she was out of focus. The man was kneeling beside her, helping her to hold the bucket and gently wiping her mouth.

"It hurts so much," she said miserably.

"Molly, I think we should go to the hospital," Sherlock replied softly.

"I think not yet, I have had worse. I just need ... I just need to rest "

"Nausea, fever, abdominal pain… flu?" Sherlock listed his symptoms.

"Stop worrying. I just want to sleep. Please” Molly said as she leaned against the back of the sofa.

Sherlock understood her and helped her onto her side, not moving her abruptly for fear that the nausea would return. The man in question rushed to the bathroom and looked for a damp flannel, when he returned to the living room he realized that Molly had not moved from where he left her. He walked over to her and pulled the flannel over her eyes, gently brushing away the hair that clung to her still warm forehead.

"Better?" Sherlock asked when he saw Molly's eyes slowly close.

"Thank you." Molly whispered softly.

"Don't move too much, we don't want another round of vomiting." Sherlock replied, moving a little to remove the afghan from his leather chair and set it on Molly's lap.

"Try to sleep, sweetie. I'll be here when you wake up." With this Sherlock went to his leather chair and sat with his hands in prayer, reviewing the latest events.

Molly was crying. Sherlock's mind clouded and he was yelling at him what an idiot he had been. The little woman had gotten up to go to bed in Sherlock's room and collapsed when she was in the kitchen entrance. Molly was on her knees, tears in her eyes, the consulting detective ran quickly towards her and when he tried to lift her in his arms, Molly let out a high-pitched grunt of pain. With his head spinning, all Sherlock could do was call an ambulance.

"Sherlock" The groan made the owner of the name feel guilty for the pain.

"Easy, I'm here." Sherlock responded immediately, hugging her to his chest. "I'm here, I'm not leaving." He was kissing Molly's head.

_Silence_

When the sound of the sirens get louder, it was when Sherlock made the little woman in his arms lift her head a little so she could look him in the eye. "Hey, they're already here"

The eldest of the couple smiled with all the tranquility he could muster at this time. Mentally preparing to have a quick chat with the paramedic, Sherlock took a deep breath. When the paramedics in question appeared on the surface of the stairs, Sherlock called out to them, and reluctantly had to get away from the poor woman. He saw one of the men kneel next to her body and speak softly to her, seeing that there was no response due to the pain, they rushed to load her on a stretcher and direct her to the ambulance waiting outside 221B.

Sherlock couldn't take it anymore. The pain he saw in Molly's eyes and moans was very intense for him. Now in the hospital with the little pathologist in the operating room undergoing emergency surgery, the only thing the consulting detective could feel was guilt. Nothing but guilt, he, one of the smartest and most deductible men, was supposed to take care of her. Sherlock knew that the surgery was going to take time, so with some hesitation in his actions, he left the hospital and went to find _Bill Wiggins_.

Two hours passed. Sherlock returned much calmer and serene, with a small smile that he tried to hide, he quickly went to Molly's room which was in a suite, _courtesy of Mycroft_ , he had called John, Mary (now best friend of Molly), Lestrade and Mike Stanford.

Upon reaching Molly's room, he met his cloudy gaze, he approached and sat in the chair that was next to her bed, he took one of her hands in his, he did not make eye contact.

It was a comfortable silence, they had nothing to say, Sherlock knew that Molly was fine now and that his little secret was fine; Molly was sleepy and happy that Sherlock was with her. So they spent the night, and the following week that Molly stayed in the hospital, were normal days, as if nothing had happened.

So Sherlock thought...

Sherlock couldn't get off the cocaine, that's right, right? That's the dark world of addictions. The detective spent the first three months hiding his addiction from the eyes of his family and Molly. But the lie has short legs, and one night when Molly was doing laundry, she found a white package in one of Sherlock's suit pockets.

The disappointment was horrible, everything she had sacrificed for him went to hell, all hope in him was over. He could not stop drugs, after so many begging, detoxification and promises that the finals were blown away. Molly looked at the little package between her fingers with teary eyes, a thousand questions going through her mind, a train that was going a thousand an hour, without knowing the real reason for Sherlock's weakness.

That same night, while they were setting the table, Molly questioned Sherlock, he denied everything but she with the pain in her heart took out the package with the white substance.

"Molly...it's not what you think." Sherlock said quickly.

“Sherlock, stop it. Just enough." She dropped it. “I help you, I asked you to stop this… I trusted you !...I left Tom for you!...And I did everything because I still believed in you. But now I realize that not even with everything I did is going to change you."

"Molly, no" Sherlock walked quickly to her and kissed her, he smelled of coffee, cigarettes and despair. Molly, as always, could not resist him, she responded to the kiss.

“Molly, my Molly. Don't leave me. Please” Sherlock muttered between kisses, he grabbed her tightly in his arms and led her into the room. Sherlock was more tender when they went to bed, anxious, yes, but not wild, instead now, Molly knew that he had something else in his system, something that made him _dangerous_.

She gasped when he filled her, her head hitting the pillows as she moaned. With gasps, almost gasps, Sherlock was different, he was much more desperate. He was bigger than her, much bigger, that always made him treat her with great care when they made love. There was always that limit, that slight burning that she felt when she was full.

She certainly loved him. He did, does, and always will. She felt safe, complete when she was with him. But tonight, even with the care Sherlock always gave her, she felt he wanted to show her tonight more than ever that he loved her fervently.

Sherlock was on top of her, his legs trembling with barely suppressed anxiety as she adjusted to him. They both gasped in unison as he filled her completely, the sweet heat, the pressure, the desire, the doubt, and the hope.

He was indecisive at first, afraid of hurting her, but in the end he followed his instincts and with sweat running down his face, he made her his, over and over again; not like the first few times in their relationship, no, this was more like possession, like the last attempt to let her know that he needed her, that he was hers, as much as she was his.

Pain and pleasure merged like raw sounds coming out of their mouths. Both in fear, both undecided, as if this was the last time between them. They embraced feeling the time between their bodies, like freshly molten gold.

Breathing became shallower, names spoken between gasps and moans, broken hearts healing each other, two people, man and woman, being one. All the emotions that overwhelmed both of them made concentration much more difficult, and in no time they were both shouting insistent names, both reaching maximum satisfaction, both looking at each other reverently, she comes and he followed her.

Breathing slowed, sweat chills, and Sherlock was the first to break the silence.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, do not worry". She whispered. "I'm fine".

"Good," Sherlock muttered and turned to hug her tightly, she fit him perfectly. Molly, resting her arm on his waist, felt her heart skip, she always felt loved by him. With a small sob, she wiped the tears from her eyes and removed her arm from him, sliding off the bed.

"Molly, what is it?" Sherlock asked anxiously, sitting up as he rummaged in the dark of the night for his pajama bottoms, but Molly realized that his gaze was desperate and wary. He was covering her body with the sheet, his hand that was holding the sheet was tightly tangled. He looked a lot like the man she met when they first started their relationship, he was ashamed to show the scars on his back to her, Molly secretly ran her little fingers and kissed each of the lines he had when he was asleep.

She shook his head, not wanting to speak so as not to break into tears. Today was the day, today everything ended, today was the end. If she does not leave today, when? All the pain and disappointment. It would seem little, but the man in front of her could not fulfill one of the promises that she so badly needs. She certainly couldn't go on with someone you don't know when the last day you see him because of an overdose will be, if he wanted this, well ¿what else can she do?, Molly wasn't going to stick around to look like a such an intelligent man destroyed himself.

Without saying anything, she dressed, stood up and went to the door without wanting to look back.

When she opened the door she heard a loud knock, it was Sherlock who was following her, struggling to pull his robe over his bare chest. His hair was a mess and contrasted with his pale face and wide red eyes.

"Molly, wait-"

She continued on her way when she felt strong but trembling arms pulling her.

With his desperate face, that expression she saw when he had his breakdowns, she realized that the man in front of her was an anxious mess. She saw the excessive blinking, the movement of his head, his jaw working, his arms shaking, no eye contact, it certainly made Molly feel guilty, but she also realized that she must end this for the good of both of them.

Sherlock's fingers dug into her flesh. "Molly, please!" he had demanded and in the moonlight she could see that his eyes were bright. Molly raised her hand and placed it on one of his cheeks.

"I love you, Sherlock," she said in a sad whisper.

"Molly ... stay with me, I don't want to lose you ..."

"I'm leaving Sherlock, for the sake of both of us." She kept stroking the growing stubble.

“Molly, I'll quit, I'll do it, for you. I can do it for you, Molly. I was scared, please understand me."

Beg, make known the need for something. For a brief moment she hesitated, but she also knew, that their paths were different. They could try again, even love, even more desperate as Sherlock tried to convince her to stay.

Taking his face with both hands, she smiled sadly at him, trying to make him loving when all she was doing was breaking their hearts

"I have to go. You see, life is like that. You stay here "

_**Now………………………………………………………** _

Silent, raw and insensitive. Silence between a man and a woman, suffocating them both. Sherlock sighed shakily and grabbed the hand Molly had placed on his cheek.

"No. Please Molly. Don't do it, ”Sherlock said, his eyes filling with tears.

"I thought I could change you," Molly replied in a shaky voice.

"Please, Molly, no"

Molly puts her hand down ...

"I'm leaving, Sherlock" says Molly with tears running down her flushed cheeks and leaving the apartment leaving a Sherlock Holmes completely overwhelmed.

She took a taxi and went to Mary's house, she knew that going there, there will be questions, but she did not care, she was heartbroken and needed a shoulder to cry on.

Sherlock slid down the wall next to the door, his first instinct was to follow her, but if this was her decision, what could he do? It was so hard to believe that it was all over. Words said, moments lived, renounce hearts, renounce the woman you loved so much.  
Because their love was a fantasy, illusions that are forged over time, because the distance between the two was great, which made it difficult to understand each other.  
Tears streamed down Sherlock's face, high-pitched sobs, sore throat and broken heart.

Two broken hearts.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, let me see your comments.  
> Total thanks.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I have given up on you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28111695) by [AdriMmoralesDUH](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdriMmoralesDUH/pseuds/AdriMmoralesDUH)




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